If I Can't Fix Her
by ImaginaryGirlxx
Summary: A series of unexplained instances constitutes a puzzle. House loves puzzles. What happens when these instances involve the behaviour of his fellow? House notices something is wrong with Cameron and he's determined to find out what. It's only a puzzle to solve, right? TRIGGER WARNING: Contains self harm.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! Here's a little taster of a new fic I'm thinking of writing. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading more :)**

**Warning: Mentions of self harm. Please don't read if it's going to trigger you and tell me if you think I should change the rating to M. I'm no good at judging these things.**

It had been a difficult day at work. A woman had gone into cardiac arrest whilst being operated on. They hadn't been able to restart her heart. Logically, Allison Cameron knew that it wasn't her fault. She wasn't the one who was doing the surgery and she definitely wasn't the one who had suggested such a risky procedure based on little to no evidence. Of course, that was House. It was the way he worked. She knew that. As much as she would try to stop him, she had no control over what he did and knew he would go to any length to solve his puzzles, even if it meant risking a patient's life.

She hated that about him, yet she still had feelings for him no matter how many people she denied it to. That simple fact made her hate herself even more. She couldn't understand why she had feelings for him. The scientist in her told her that there was no logical reason for her to like him. He was a jerk to her, to everyone. He rarely thought about the consequences of his actions. He was rude and he certainly didn't have the gift of tact in difficult conversations. However, Allison knew that she was the type of person to let her emotions get in the way of any logical thinking. It was the only explanation as to why she was in love with House.

Allison sat on the closed lid of her toilet, her eyes red from crying. She had locked the door, despite the fact that she lived alone. She wasn't sure why she did it, only that, for some reason, she always did.

In her hands she held a small box that she had retrieved from the back of the top shelf of her medicine cabinet above the sink. She turned it over in her hands a few times, as if debating whether or not she would do it. It wasn't as if she didn't know the answer, but trying to stop at least made her feel a little bit less pathetic than if she hadn't. As hard as she tried to not give in to the temptation of an easy release from the pain, she never could. She was weak and she knew it, but she was infinitely glad that no one else knew.

More than once, she had wondered how her colleagues dealt with the pain of the death of a patient. She had no idea how she would cope, had she chosen to specialise in something like oncology rather than immunology. Wilson's patients died more often than not, despite the fact that he was a great doctor. She couldn't stand the idea that, no matter what she did, a patient would die. These thoughts only brought her mood down more as she opened the small box in her hands and took out the small blade that it held.

Allison lifted up her cream blouse and ran the blade along her exposed skin. A couple more cuts and she began to meticulously clean the wounds and the blade, covering them with band-aids. She let her blouse fall over the sore area and put the box away where she had found it. It was then that she noticed a small speck of blood on her blouse. Taking it off, she placed it in the laundry hamper and hoped that the stain would fade in the wash.

Feeling a lot more relaxed, Allison went to the kitchen and started to make herself some dinner as if nothing had happened. After curling up on her bed with a glass of wine and some predictable romantic comedy, she went to sleep. To her relief, she slept peacefully. All her anger and pain had been taken out on herself earlier in the evening, leaving her calm and able to forget about what had happened at work.

The next morning, Allison found herself to be the first of her team in the office. This was nothing unusual, she thought as she poured herself a mug of steaming hot coffee. What was unusual, however, was the fact that House walked in not ten minutes later. He was at least an hour earlier than normal.

"Ah! Morning Cameron." He greeted her. "For me? How sweet." House said, grabbing her coffee straight out of her hand. He took a sip of the hot liquid and grimaced. "How much sugar did you put in this?"

Ignoring his question, she got up to make a second cup of coffee. There was no point in trying to argue with House, at least not until she had some caffeine in her system.

"You're in early." She commented, trying to act as nonchalantly as possible despite the fact that as she moved she could feel the material of her shirt rubbing against the still red cuts from the night before. If she showed even the slightest grimace she couldn't be certain that House wouldn't notice it. That was not something that she was willing to risk.

"I'm here on time. It's 9am."

"And you're usually late."

"Wilson gave me a ride and he's too much of a goody-two-shoes to be late."

Alison sighed and went back to making her drink now that the kettle had finished boiling.

"Do we have a case?" She asked.

"I don't know. Have you been through my mail yet?"

"Has it ever occurred to you to go through your own mail?"

"Why would I when I know you'll do it for me?" He smirked, sitting down on his chair with his Gameboy.

Seconds later the office door opened and Foreman and Chase entered.

"I hope we're not interrupting anything." Foreman joked and Cameron shot him a glare. She stayed quiet as her two colleagues settled down, before getting up and grabbing House's mail from his desk. At least going through it would give her something to do until they found a case.

The morning passed uneventfully until Cuddy came in with a case just before noon. While Alison was happy to be doing some actual work instead of being essentially a glorified secretary, her excitement was short lived when her boss broke the news that the family of the woman from the day before were starting to exhibit similar symptoms.

"All we know is that it must be something environmental for them all to be getting sick. I managed to get the husband to agree for you to treat them as you had worked on Mrs Jenkins." Cuddly informed them.

"But we have no idea what killed her." Chase pointed out.

"Well the fact that other people are getting sick proves that it's got to be something that they were all exposed to. Mrs Jenkins was just exposed sooner or naturally more susceptible." Foreman concluded.

House was already writing the progression of Mrs Jenkins' symptoms on the board as the rest of the team each took a file from Cuddy. Alison found herself reading about the youngest son. He was only four years old and it was up to them to stop him from going through what his mother had. She'd met the boy only a couple of days ago and he had seemed perfectly healthy, as had his father and brother two years his senior.

Once Cuddy has left the team spent the best part of the next two hours exhausting any possibility. When they couldn't come up with anything new House sent Foreman and Chase to check out the family home again in case they had missed anything the first time.

Alison had been struggling to keep herself together at the news that the rest of this family were getting sick. She made some excuse to House and left the office shortly after her colleagues had. She couldn't help but be scared that the Jenkins family would go the same way as their last patient if they weren't able to come up with a diagnosis soon. Mrs Jenkins' symptoms had progressed so quickly that House had needed to make the rash decision to operate. They couldn't make the same mistake again.

She soon found herself in the bathroom, locking herself in one of the stalls and pulling a blade out of her purse. Exactly as she had done the night before, she pulled up her shirt and made a few small cuts on her side, this time on the opposite side to before. Once she was satisfied that she would be able to hold herself together in front of her colleagues, she went to clean herself up, only to discover that she'd run out of spare band-aids in her purse. She sighed and tried to stop the bleeding with a handful of toilet paper. She applied pressure to the fresh cuts for a while until she was sure that they had stopped bleeding. Knowing that House would start to get suspicious if she was gone for much longer she pulled her shirt back down and headed back to the office.

Meanwhile, House was pondering Cameron's exit. She wasn't doing work so he could only assume that she'd left for personal reasons, although that wasn't a good enough answer for him. He needed to know more. If someone had asked, he would've said he'd show the same curiosity had it been Chase or Foreman who had left for no reason but something in him knew that it would be a lie. But then again, everybody lies, don't they?

**Worth continuing? Please leave me a review to let me know your thoughts!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter :) It means a lot to me! I hope you like this update.  
**

The second that Alison re-entered the office she could tell that House was looking at her suspiciously. She decided not to mention it in hope of him ignoring her momentary disappearance.

No such luck.

"Where did you go?" He asked in an obvious attempt to sound casual.

Cameron sighed. "I went to the restroom, House. It's no mystery." Technically it wasn't a lie. She didn't need to tell him that she never actually used the restroom.

"I don't trust the idiots at the ER to do the tests right. Go and re-do them."

Again, Alison sighed at her boss' lack of tact and manners, but dutifully went out to test the patients nonetheless. As she was walking down the corridor she realised that it was the first time she'd have seen them since they lost Mrs Jenkins. How could she handle the guilt she felt in front of them? She had retreated to the office as soon as the procedure had finished and House had allowed her to. He knew she wasn't good at giving patients' families bad news and was slowly coming to accept the fact that things went a lot more smoothly for him if Chase or Foreman broke the news.

Resisting the urge to give in to her emotions once again, she carried on walking towards the patients' rooms. She greeted them with a sad smile, wanting to be reassuring but not seem insensitive to their recent loss. The sight of the tear stains down the cheeks of the young boys was almost enough to push her over the edge. They'd been through so much and now she could hardly bring herself to cause them any more pain. She knew that the youngest was terrified of needles and the oldest didn't like hospitals in general. Giving her condolences to the father, she set about conducting the tests as calmly and meticulously as possible, as was how she always strived to appear.

By the time it came to having to take blood from the youngest son, Harvey, she had been able to suppress her emotions to a level that allowed her to force a reassuring smile on her face. She chatted animatedly to the boy in hope of distracting him from the needle that she was sure he knew was coming. As soon as she thought that Harvey was distracted enough talking about his favourite television show she brought the needle from behind her back. Unfortunately, Harvey caught sight of the threatening object and panicked, pushing it away from him and causing it to scratch Cameron's arm.

"Harvey!" Mr Jenkins scolded him. "I'm so sorry, doctor." He said to Cameron.

"It's alright." She assured him. Noticing that the scratch had started to bleed, she excused herself. "I'll come back to do the rest of the tests later once he's calmed down." She said, heading to the storage room a couple of doors down to grab a band-aid.

She began her well-practiced ritual of cleaning the wound. It wasn't deep but the scratch ran quite a length of her lower arm and she knew that the bandage would be noticed if she wasn't wearing her lab coat. But then again, she didn't have anything to hide, right? This thought relaxed her slightly. No doubt House had already been paged and was aware of the incident.

While she had access to the bandages she decided to use one to cover up the cuts that she had made earlier. They were no longer bleeding but she couldn't risk knocking them against something and them re-opening. She lifted her shirt and was about to cover them in a band-aid when she hear a knock at the door.

"Cameron?" House called out.

Alison panicked and dropped her shirt back down, hiding the band-aid in her back pocket in case he came in.

"What do you want, House?" She asked, her voice high with nerves at the thought of being caught.

"The nurses said you were in here. You're not with Chase again are you?" He asked, a hint of humour behind his gruff voice. Cameron had hoped that he would have let that go but he was still using it against her months later at every opportunity he had.

"I'm on my own, House. Just give me a second and I'll be out." She told him, trying to stay as calm as possible. She quickly applied the bandage to her side and smoothed her shirt down to that she looked presentable. Taking a deep breath she opened the door and came face to face with her boss.

"I hear the kid went crazy." He commented as she started walking.

"He's scared of needles. That's not a symptom of anything other than childhood."

"I didn't say it was." House pointed out with a smile. "Why are you being so defensive?"

Alison didn't reply, instead picking up her pace slightly so that she was walking at a speed he couldn't keep up with. She knew he wouldn't be happy and would definitely try and over analyse if but she just needed a few seconds away from him to compose herself after almost being caught out.

Unfortunately for her, the elevator took too long to arrive and House had caught up with her by the time the doors opened. With no one inside and five floors between them and the office, Cameron knew House would start asking questions.

She wasn't disappointed.

House lifted his cane and pressed the button to stop the elevator doors from opening and turned to face the young immunologist.

"You know you can't just run away." He said, a very matter-of-fact tone about his voice.

"I'm not trying to." Alison replied as calmly as possible.

"Really?"

"You're seeing puzzles where there's nothing there, House." She tried to protest, her heart racing as she struggled to keep her emotions under control. Today was turning out to be one of the hardest she'd faced in a while. It had been months, maybe years, since she'd felt the urge to break down so much in the space of a few hours and she had no idea why. Why was this case affecting her so much? Why was she finding House even more irritating than usual? Still, she knew she had to keep on a brave face. She'd been through worse than this and kept her secret. The only difference was that House wasn't around then. If anyone could figure it out it would be him.

It was as if he was following her train of thought when he next spoke. "You're hiding something." He said simply.

"And if I am there's probably a good reason for it." She replied, trying to throw him somewhat off the scent.

House didn't reply, instead allowing the elevator doors to open and walking out in silence. This made Alison even more nervous and she was pretty sure that had been his plan. He wasn't going to give up and she sure as Hell couldn't let him find out the truth. She didn't even want to imagine how he would react, but something told her that she'd be subjected to a lot of ridicule for being so weak. In House's eyes, she should know by now that she can't save everyone and shouldn't get so upset over every patient they lost. Then again, she'd discovered over the years that he could be just as bad at coping. Sure, he'd brush it off as an obsession with finding the answer to the puzzle but Cameron truly believed that there was a part of him that struggled with the emotions faced by every doctor at some point in their career.

By the time House and Cameron reached the office they could see that their colleagues had returned from their patients' house.

"What did you find?" House asked.

Chase and Foreman talked them through the various theories that they had come up with and House sent his fellows off to the lab to analyse the samples that had been collected.

Once he was alone, House took the opportunity to think about the new information Cameron had inadvertently given him over the past half an hour. He knew that she was hiding something from him, no matter how much she tried to throw him off her trail. Of course, it was entirely plausible that her trip to the restroom earlier had been just that, but she'd been acting jumpy all morning so he couldn't say that nothing was wrong. He just had to find out what it was. It wasn't as if she was going to tell him, was it?

Noticing that she'd left her purse on the desk, House got up with the intention of looking through it. He unzipped the top of the expensive designer bag, which he could assume was a relatively infrequent treat for her as she never wore designer anything to work, and was about to look inside when he was interrupted by a cough from behind him.

"What are you doing?" Wilson asked as House turned around to face him.

"Looking for chapstick." He replied, without missing a beat.

"Of course you were." Wilson sighed. "I don't think Cameron would appreciate you going through her purse."

"How do you know it's hers? It could just as easily be Cuddy's." He said, before adding, "Or even Chase's."

"Well whoever it belongs to I doubt they want you snooping around."

"I think something's wrong with her."

Wilson was almost afraid to ask. "Who?"

"Cameron."

"Why?" He asked, playing along as he knew House wanted him to.

"She's hiding something from me."

"And that automatically means something's wrong?"

"She's Cameron." House replied, by way of an argument.

"You're obsessing." Wilson concluded. "You're upset because you lost your patient and you don't know how to treat her family so you're obsessing over a few details of Cameron's life in hope of finding something you can fix when, in all likelihood, she's completely fine."

"There's always an explanation. It's not the right time of the month to be her hormones, unless she's pregnant, but her breasts don't look any bigger which all but rules out that theory." House started until Wilson walked out to continue what he was going to do before he saw House going through Cameron's bag through the glass walls of his office. Despite being alone, House spoke aloud. "I'll find out why she's acting strange." He promised himself, although his own motives were becoming less clear to him with every new piece of information he gained.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favourited or followed this story so far. It means a lot to me that you're enjoying reading it. I'd love to know what you all think of this chapter!**

A couple of days had passed since the Jenkins family were admitted and House and his team were getting no closer to a diagnosis, nor was House getting any closer to finding out what was wrong with Cameron.

"There's got to be something we're overlooking." Foreman protested.

"We've been over every inch of their house twice." Chase argued.

Alison began to tune out their discussion. She was well aware that they were on the losing side of this fight against some mysterious, unknown disease and didn't want to be dealing with their constant negative comments. She didn't know how well she'd be able to hide the fact that there was something wrong with her if this went on for much longer, not to mention the fact that her mind kept thinking about how much the poor family were suffering. They'd already lost someone close to them and were probably terrified that the same thing would happen to them. The fact that they all fell ill with less than 24 hours to mourn was almost unthinkable. Alison didn't want to imagine what Mr Jenkins was feeling, let alone the two young boys.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't register Foreman calling her name until House slammed a heavy medical book down on the table in front of her, making her jump.

"Nice of you to join us." He commented once he knew that he had her attention.

"Sorry I must've zoned out." Cameron said, trying to cover up for herself.

"Is everything ok, Alison?" Chase asked.

"Yeah, fine."

"So we can get back to finding out what killed mommy and what's killing the rest of the family?" House asked.

Cameron nodded her head and began to engage in their differential diagnosis.

An hour later they had come up with a new theory that they could test with a blood sample.

"Chase and Foreman go and get the samples as Cameron seemed to fail miserably at taking blood last time." House instructed. The three fellows got up and were about to leave when House spoke up again. "Where do you think you're going, Cameron?" He asked.

Alison waited behind while Chase and Foreman went to run the tests. She'd received a mouthed 'good luck' from Chase as he left and could tell that the whole team knew why House was making her stay behind. She could feel her pulse racing and her palms beginning to sweat as she tried not to give away how she was feeling. Had she been caught out?

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, his voice gruff and impatient.

"Nothing's wrong, House. I'm just having a hard time with this case."

"That's not it." He decided after a moment's contemplation.

"Then enlighten me. What is it?" Cameron sighed. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with House and figured things would move a lot faster if she just let him tell her his theory and then she could leave.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking." House retaliated. She could tell his motives were purely selfish. He was nosey and felt the need to be aware of every part of his employees' lives. He didn't care for them or their problems on any other emotional or empathic level.

"Maybe I'm getting sick of working with you when you're being so insensitive towards the patients who have just lost someone close to them." She pointed out.

House laughed a little. "Now that's definitely not it." He said confidently. "You seem to like me too much for that to be true."

Cameron rolled her eyes and made another move to walk out of the door.

"I haven't given you any work to do. Where are you going?"

"To get coffee." Alison replied, hoping he would buy it.

"There's a coffee machine over there. You can make me some while you're at it."

Alison sighed and walked over to the coffee machine to make the drinks. She was well aware that House was scrutinising her every move in hope of finding out what was wrong with her and she was determined not to slip up.

House watched as Cameron prepared the drinks, laying everything out ready while the water was boiling so that she could make the drinks quickly and efficiently. She was predictable down to her last movement. This was the part of the puzzle that House found so frustrating. He'd had her figured out for so long. Why now was something wrong when everything about her seemed the same? And if it had always been there why was he only just noticing?

He was torn out of his thoughts when Cameron let out a small noise of pain.

"Everything ok?" House asked, his concern showing in a rare moment of worry. He rationalised that it was due to the path his mind had been taking him down thinking about what was wrong with Cameron moments earlier.

"Fine. I just knocked my hip on the table." She said, brushing it off.

Alison went back to stirring the drinks, unaware that the impact of hitting her hip had caused some of her more recent cuts to reopen. They had healed over somewhat so she didn't feel the need to cover them in band-aids. With the whole process no longer fresh in her mind she thought nothing of it.

But House did.

As he looked up from his computer screen he noticed a small amount of blood seeping thought Cameron's pale shirt. She didn't see him staring immediately, giving his mind time to run through dozens of possible explanations for why she was bleeding. What had happened to her? Is this what she was hiding?

"You're bleeding." House commented after a few seconds and they both knew that he has posed it as a question more than a statement. He wanted to give her the chance to come clean before he made another move that could push her away even more. If that happened he might never get an answer. At least, that's what he told himself that he was doing.

"I am?" Cameron asked but she didn't seem concerned, which sounded alarm bells to House.

He got up from his chair and walked over to her. "Lift up your shirt." House demanded, his current theory gaining more weight by the second.

"House I'm not going to…"

"You will or I'll do it for you." He said firmly. The look of fear that flashed through Cameron's eyes then didn't go unnoticed by House. As much as he wanted to make some snide comment about how she should be enjoying the moment he bit his tongue, thankful that his internal censor that he thought was long lost seemed to reappear. The last thing he needed was to scare her off. "I'm a doctor. Just let me see."

"So am I. I can bandage it up myself House."

"It's true that doctors make the worst patients. I need to see what's wrong." He insisted.

"So you can solve another puzzle?" Alison asked rhetorically.

He was now right stood right in front of her, giving her no room to move as she was backed up against the worktop. Keeping one hand on his cane, he lifted the other up to her arm and met her eyes in a gentle gesture that he hoped she perceived as comforting.

Alison flinched slightly before relaxing into his touch. It wasn't as if she didn't know what he was trying to do. He wanted her to lower her guard and in that moment she did want to, if not only to be able to keep feeling his touch on her skin. As much as giving in seemed appealing a part of her was too scared of him rejecting her even more than he ever had before if he learned the truth. How could a man in constant pain understand her need to hurt herself and not be completely repulsed and even offended by her behaviour? Almost as soon as the notion to come clean entered her mind she pushed it away again.

House could tell that he was going to get nowhere with this approach so he sighed and stepped away. He expected Cameron to run off as soon as he allowed it like a scared little animal but she stood her ground, a look of fear still present in her eyes. She knew he'd never give up that easily.

"Take a seat." He said, pulling out a chair. Obediently, Alison sat down and House walked over to the chair next to her and followed suit. "Now you and I both know something's going on here. I have a pretty good idea as to what it is and if I'm right we both know you're being an idiot."

House paused for a moment; half-expecting and half-hoping that Cameron would jump in and defend herself. When she made no effort to say anything back to him he continued.

"You're more than a puzzle. I know you. Patients are just a bunch of words on the paper so long as I never need to meet them and see them regularly." He started, trying to articulate what he was thinking in a way she'd accept. "This job is a series of puzzle with answers. If I'm right about you then I have the answer. I have a diagnosis. That should be the end of it, right?" Alison nodded. "I can't let you self-destruct." House finished.

"Why are you doing this?" Alison asked.

"Who else will make my coffee and go thought my mail?" House replied. They both knew by now that it was his way of saying he'd miss her if anything happened to her. Alison had learnt to read between the lines while working with House.

The pair were silent for a while and Alison found herself feeling close to admitting her self-destructive secret to House until she realised exactly who she was talking to. Seeing red she quickly backtracked and became defensive. Her arms were folded across her chest almost like a physical barrier between House and her heart so as not to allow it to be broken or trampled on again.

"Whatever you're thinking is wrong, it's not." She said firmly.

"Everybody lies." House reminded her, sitting back in his chair awaiting her reaction.

"And even you fall to that rule. I know you don't really care, House. Stop pretending you're trying to do anything more than solve another puzzle and boost your ego after losing Mrs Jenkins. I don't need saving, especially not by you."

She got up and walked away and this time House let her. He was sure he was right about Cameron's problem. All he needed was for her to admit to it and then this obsession would be over, right? As much as House told himself this was the case, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was wrong about not needing saving and a part of him felt that he wanted to be the one to do it.


	4. Chapter 4

A week had passed since House and Cameron's encounter and neither one of them had said another word about it. This put Cameron even more on edge than if House had just come out and said it. She knew that he hadn't forgotten. He was just waiting for something, although what it could be Cameron had no idea.

The Jenkins case had been solved by House pulling some crazy theory out of the bag when all three family members were at the final stage of the disease, assuming it were to progress in the same way as it had with Mrs Jenkins. Chase had joked that he just did it for dramatic effect but Cameron didn't believe him. He was cruel but he wasn't _that_ cruel, was he? Then again, the way he was behaving around her now to make her anxious did add some plausibility to Chase's theory.

House knew that by not saying anything Cameron would be on edge and, as cruel as it sounded, he knew that was what she needed in order to admit to her problem. They both knew she was too ashamed to admit it the last time they spoke. He would have to try and different tactic to get it out of her. If she was scared that at any minute he would bring it up again she would be more likely to try and hide it, making her subconsciously act more suspiciously than she would have done otherwise. Of course, it was a very twisted plan but House knew that it would work because he knew his employee - what makes her tick and what makes her crack. Right now he was trying for the latter. Once she admitted to what she was doing he would find out why she was doing it and solve this damned puzzle. If he managed to help her along the way it was only a bonus in his eyes, right? At least, that's what he knew he had to keep telling himself. He couldn't let himself feel any more for her than that.

When Alison entered the office the following Monday, after the first relaxing weekend she'd felt she'd had in ages, she could feel House's eyes on her, studying her every move and hoping for her to slip up. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she went about her morning routine as usual, making coffee and then moving to the desk to drink it whilst going through the ever-growing pile of unopened mail on House's desk.

Determined to catch Cameron slipping up, House had purposely arrived at the office five minutes after he knew she would be in. Foreman and Chase wouldn't be in for at least another half hour, giving him time to observe her and try to get something out of her. He noticed that, as she had done for the past week, Cameron was wearing a dark coloured blouse. If she had done anything, she was obviously trying her utmost to hide it.

The second that he was sure she'd noticed him staring, he moved over to the desk and leaned against it, resting in a position that was comfortable for his leg whilst still making it clear he was studying her.

"What do you want, House?" Cameron asked.

"Nothing." He smiled back when it was obvious that they both knew he was lying.

"Then can you stop looking over my shoulder?" She requested, as politely as she could in he irritated state.

"I'm not looking over your shoulder." House pointed out.

Alison sighed. "It's a figure of speech."

"I know that."

"Then please stop trying to make me uncomfortable and let me get on with doing _your_ work." She hinted heavily.

"I'm not stopping you." He said, knowing that she was getting annoyed. Annoyed was good, it meant she'd be less careful but also that there was minimal risk of her hurting herself. Cameron was the sort of person to get emotional when she was upset but not when she was angry. She would just bite her tongue and carry on with her work, which is what she did until the rest of the team arrived about ten minutes later.

As they didn't have a case, Cameron continued to sort and answer House's mail after exchanging pleasantries with Foreman and Chase when they entered the office. House soon got bored and headed next door to Wilson's office, presumably to try and annoy him. For this, Cameron was grateful. That was until Chase started to talk.

"What's going on with you and House?" He asked. "You could cut the tension in here with a knife."

"He's just being an ass as usual." Alison replied with a hint of irritation in her voice.

"I thought you liked that." Foreman joked.

Alison didn't justify his comment with a reply but the words rang loud and clear on repeat in her mind while she tried to work. Her attention was soon drawn away from the stack of letters in front of her as she tried to figure out what it was about House that she actually liked. Sure he was good looking and she had no doubt that there were other who were attracted to him on a physical level but for most people that stopped when they got to know him. It wasn't as if he was nice to her for the majority of the time and she was sure all he wanted from her right now was the answer to another puzzle. There was a part of her that wished he really did care and wanted to help but even she knew that the chances of that were so slim it was barely worth her time thinking about. Instead she forced herself back to the tedious task of responding to every consult request in the same manner. At first she'd read them all in an attempt to find a case that House would willingly take on but three years worth of experience had taught her that he wouldn't listen so she'd given up trying.

The rest of the day passed in much the same fashion and the pile of letters on House's desk seemed to be almost all sorted and answered by the time the clock hit 5pm. It had been a quiet day so no one could wait to get out of the door. As much as Alison wanted to be at home, she hung back for a few minutes after Chase and Foreman had left to avoid having to make awkward small talk with them on the way down to the parking lot.

What she didn't count on was House returning to his office a few minutes after 5. She had assumed that he'd just left early or that he was pulling some stupid prank on Wilson or Cuddy because he hadn't been back since earlier that morning. It was either that or he'd been forced into doing clinic hours. The look on his face told that it was most likely the latter.

"I'm starting to think you live here." He commented upon seeing her still sat behind his desk.

"I was just finishing up." She lied.

"I wouldn't mind if you did live here as long as you wore sexy pyjamas." House smirked as he watched a blush creeping to her cheeks.

Alison tried to push down her embarrassment before House noticed but she had a feeling she wasn't having much luck.

"One day someone's going to sue you for sexual harassment." She pointed out.

"But I know it won't be you." House replied confidently. He was probably right and she was starting to hate that.

The pair stayed silent for a while. Alison was trying to think of a way she could get out of there without House asking too many questions while House was content just watching her to see what she did next. Neither wanted to make the first move and it seemed that they would be stuck in this stalemate for a while until Wilson walked in.

"I thought we were going to monster trucks." He said.

"We are, I'm just in a meeting right now." House replied without turning around.

"You have glass walls, House. I've seen that neither of you have moved in a while so you're obviously not in the middle of a very important discussion. Lets go. I'm sure Cameron wants to get home."

Alison shot Wilson a grateful smile, which he returned kindly. She wished both men goodbye and headed out to her car.

"Are you still convinced there's something wrong with her?" Wilson asked.

"I know there's something wrong with her, I just need her to admit it."

"Well that is the first step." He commented, although he was referring to House. The older doctor seemed to have an issue with admitting to a number of problems, not least of which were his drug habit and his obvious affection for Cameron. At least, that's how Wilson saw it and he probably knew House better than anyone, maybe even better than he did sometimes and this was in all likelihood one of those occasions.

"Are you implying I have a drug habit?" House scoffed. "Because I have no idea where you would've got that idea from."

Wilson couldn't help but let out a small snort of laughter at House's obvious indifference to his own problem, a stark contrast to how he was reacting to Cameron's. If that wasn't enough proof to him that he liked her, Wilson didn't know what would be.

Meanwhile, Alison had returned home and was settled down watching a film with a glass of wine. All she wanted was to switch off from worrying about House picking up on her every little movement. She was well aware of his suspicions and was determined to prove him wrong, no matter how much she knew he was right. Her childish fantasies of him being her knight in shining armour and saving her from herself were just that: fantasies. If she were to ever admit to what was really going on with her she had no doubt in her mind that his reaction would be completely the opposite. She imagined anger, screaming, tears (on her part), and a lot of snarky sarcastic comments that, to her once naïve mind, could have been masking his true feelings. Of course, she'd long since moved past her twisted Freudian explanation of his behaviour – it wasn't as if she'd ever believed in his theories anyway. She knew that she had to be realistic in this situation. As emotional as she felt, the rational doctor in her was the one calling the shots when it came to House in order to protect herself from any more pain.

Just thinking about House and the stress that he was putting her under at work seemed to be sufficient to lead Alison to the small box hidden in her bathroom. Over the years she had come to liken the pressure of needing to cut to the behaviour of action potentials at the axon hillock. The pressure inside of her would build up either temporally, as lots of repeated pressure from the same source, or spatially, a combination of lots of small stressors. Once the threshold was reached an all-or-nothing response took place. She knew she had to cut to relieve the pain, just like the axon hillock knew it had to send an action potential along the nerve cell membrane. Her mind ran over these details of her situation in a rational, rather than emotional, way as she continued her well-practiced ritual.

It was just like any other time until she heard a knock at the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it's been so long since I've updated this. I've spent a lot of time trying to get it right for you. I hope you like it and any feedback you can give would be greatly appreciated!**

**Warning: This chapter contains mentions of abuse and abortions. Read at your own risk and let me know if you think I should increase the rating to M**

Alison looked up as the sound of wood knocking on wood caught her attention, causing her hand to slip from its position ever so slightly and making a deeper cut than she had originally intended.

"Shit." She said under her breath.

"Cameron, are you in there?" House called out.

A part of her hoped that if she just stayed quiet he would give up and go away. Her hope was short-lived, however, when she remembered that she'd left the light on in her front room. There was no way someone as observant as House would miss that. She knew that it would be visible from under the door and he'd know that she was in. They both knew that she was too much of a perfectionist to leave the light on when she'd left the apartment.

Seeing no other way out of the situation, Cameron called out to her boss.

"I'm in the bath, House. Come back later." She tried.

"Where's your spare key?" He asked.

Alison rolled her eyes. _'As if I'm going to tell you.' _She thought to herself.

"Go away House." Cameron said out loud, wishing that he would just get the message.

While this conversation was happening, Alison continued bandaging up her fresh cuts. She was so well practiced, not just from personal experience but also from all her years at medical school, that she could more or less finish off the task without thinking.

Unfortunately for her, House wasn't the sort of person who would give up easily, nor was he one to respect someone else's privacy. As Alison took longer that expected to bandage up her cuts, she failed to notice that House had found her spare key and was unlocking the door. Thankful that the bathroom door was locked, she finished up and put away her box of tools before shoving the bloody tissues in the trash.

"I said I was busy, House. Couldn't you come back later?" She asked, looking very flustered.

"You actually said you were in the bath." He pointed out. "I was expecting you to come out in a towel and not the clothes you wore to work today. I have to say I'm disappointed."

"What I was doing in there is none of your business." Cameron answered back defiantly, acting a lot more confident than she felt.

"And you wouldn't have a problem if I used our bathroom now?" He asked. "That beer I had with Wilson has gone right through me."

"Too much information." Alison blushed.

Without waiting for her permission he headed to the bathroom. He had a pretty good idea what he would find in there and so did Alison. Her breathing had become heavy and she was struggling to pull herself together, knowing that House would almost definitely see the blood-soaked tissues in the bin. She started feeling light-headed, possibly as a combination of her deep breathing and recent blood loss, and decided to sit down. She didn't need House asking even more questions about her health if she fainted in front of him. Resigning herself to the fact that House had all but caught her in the act, she sighed and waited for what was to come.

Sure enough, not two minutes later House came out of her bathroom with a handful of bloody tissues from the bin.

"What's this?" He asked, his voice raised. Alison didn't reply, whether it was out of fear or shame House couldn't tell. "Show me." He demanded.

Alison tried one last attempt to deny the obvious. "I cut my leg shaving. It's diagnostically boring."

"Don't lie to me, Cameron." House shouted, his loud voice making her flinch every so slightly. "My opinion of you is low enough right now. You don't want to push me."

"House." She pleaded but a simple glare from him was enough to silence her.

Slowly, she lifted her shirt to show the newly applied band-aid on her hip. A matching, although slightly smaller one, was also visible on the opposite hip.

"Let me see." He said, his voice surprisingly soft in comparison to how it had been seconds earlier.

"It's probably still bleeding." Cameron pointed out.

"That wasn't a problem for you earlier."

Reluctantly, Alison removed the plasters, her expression slightly pained as the adhesive pulled at her skin. House saw the large cut that she had made most recently and gasped. It was more than he had expected from his innocent employee.

"I wasn't meant to cut that deep." She said in an attempt to explain herself. "You made me jump and my hand slipped."

At this, House had the decency to look guilty. "You do realise that's going to need stitches."

"It's not that bad."

"Where's your first aid kit?" He asked.

Alison pointed to the bathroom, telling House that it was located in the cabinet. She knew that behind it was the box that caused all of this, and that House would notice it, but she kept quiet. She didn't want to admit to it being there, despite the fact that House knew all too well what she had been doing. Seconds later House returned with both the first aid kit and, as predicted, Alison's shameful box of supplies. Slamming the box down on the coffee table in front of where Alison sat, he opened up the first aid kit and began to stitch up her wound. Thankfully there was only one cut deep enough to require stitches and House was soon finished. Alison quickly pulled her shirt back down as if to hide the cuts once more.

House took a seat next to Alison and the pair sat in silence, neither sure what to do next. They didn't know how long it had been before Alison finally spoke up.

"You were right." She said. House snorted as if to say that her observation was completely obvious. "I'm not talking about the…" She paused, the phrase 'self harm' implied. Even after all these years she still struggled to say it out loud. "All those years ago when I asked you why you hired me. You told me that you knew I was damaged."

"I didn't want to be right." House admitted in a rare moment of honesty.

"Please, you always want to be right." Alison scoffed.

"Not about that."

Silence.

Both House and Cameron were to caught up in what had happened the past few minutes to form a coherent thought about where to go from there. There was one question burning on House's mind that he desperately needed to know the answer to. He was so close to solving his puzzle, if only he could find out why she did it. This need was overcome, however, by a foreign desire not to want to know what was wrong. He couldn't quite place his finger on why he didn't want to hear whatever would come out of her mouth when he asked her. What could've happened to lead her to this?

Finally he couldn't wait any longer. He told himself it was his need for answers that drove him to ask, but a part of him knew it was just so that he could try to help.

"Why?" He asked simply. There was no explanation or expansion needed. That single word covered all of his questions.

"I lied to you that day." Cameron started.

She saw House's expression turn from intrigue to pure worry and she momentarily considered stopping. All this time she'd thought he really did just want an answer to his puzzle. As much as she had wished his motives were different, she didn't hold out hope. Now, faced with the possibility that he really did care she found herself hesitant. How could she tell him, of all people, about this? No one had ever known about her habit besides House and her husband. Once he'd died there was no one left that Alison felt she could turn to so she hadn't spoken about it in over a decade. A part of her just wanted to let it all out to someone who wanted to listen and right now her best option, however bizarre it seemed, was House.

Before she could begin her story again House noticed her internal battle. He saw her fiddling with her hands and placed his larger one over them, both as a caring gesture and as a way to make her stop as he was finding it to be very distracting. He looked in her eyes and whispered to her to carry on. She must've read his caring gesture correctly, however awkward he had been in implementing it. It was a rare thing for both of them to see him display that much vulnerability and empathy for another human being.

"Back in high school I had my first boyfriend. You know how it is, puppy love and all that. The relationship started out perfect until…" She paused. There was nothing that House could do to make her tell this story any faster; she had to do it in her own time. Instead of pushing her like she had expected him to he merely sat beside her in silence as she gathered up the courage to continue.

Alison stayed quiet for at least a few minutes. House hadn't been keeping count, his mind on other more important things. It was as if she'd been transported back in time to whatever events she was about to describe next. She felt herself starting to hyperventilate and knew that she was in the beginning stages of a panic attack. Over the years she'd taught herself to stop these attacks in their tracks as soon as she noticed the physiological symptoms occurring. She'd learnt to induce such symptoms herself and put a stop to them before they escalated and eventually was able to apply it to the real thing. She felt herself digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands to bring herself back to the present. The action was not enough to draw blood any more as years of doing the same thing had caused the skin to toughen with scar tissue.

Eventually, she found enough strength to continue her story. "He was the first guy to ever pay any real attention to me. I was inexperienced and now I think he just saw me as an easy lay. He started pushing me to have sex with him and getting angry when I didn't. One day I guess he just got tired of waiting…" She trailed off and House felt a sudden sick feeling in his stomach. He didn't have to be a genius to figure out what she wasn't saying aloud. His curiosity had definitely piqued but there was no way he could ask her for any more details. There was only one thing he felt it appropriate to question.

"Tell me you finished with him after that." He said firmly as he held his breath for an answer, his fingers digging in to the arm of the couch in an attempt to subdue his anger. Alison nodded silently and he let out a small sigh of relief. At least it hadn't gone on any longer after that, he assured himself. "You told me once that there are only two ways you can deal with things." House pointed out.

"This is the second." Alison clarified sadly. "It's this or running away and I just can't keep doing that."

Just like that House had his answer. There was no longer a big mystery. Still, it didn't cheapen what she had gone through. There was a big part of House that just wanted to seriously hurt this guy for taking advantage of her.

Without being prompted, Alison started talking again.

"I was able to stop when I started college and got away from him but when Ben was diagnosed it started up again."

"Did he know about it?" House asked. Alison nodded but didn't expand on the subject and House didn't ask her to. There was one thing that he still needed an answer for. "Why did you lie to me?" He questioned, trying to keep his gruff voice as soft as possible so as not to get a rise out of her. She was opening up and he didn't want that to stop but he needed answers like people needed oxygen.

"It's not exactly something one discusses with their boss." She spat. Upon seeing House recoil slightly with what looked like regret, she calmed herself down enough to give him a proper answer. "I didn't want you to know I was as weak and pathetic as you thought I was."

"I don't think you're weak." He told her honestly. He couldn't figure out when his opinion of her had changed so drastically. He'd come over here with every intention of telling her how stupid she was being and his resolve had only grown upon getting his theory confirmed, but after hearing her story he'd softened slightly, all but letting go of those thoughts completely.

"There's something else." Alison added, so quietly that House almost missed it. He looked up to meet her eyes and waited patiently for her to continue. "That guy, Stuart, he…" She paused for a second, struggling to get the words out. "He got me pregnant." She finally admitted. While Ben had known of her bad relationship, he'd never known this part of the story. The only people that knew were herself and Stuart.

"What happened?"

"He found out and forced me to get an abortion." Alison said, he voice cracking as she finally allowed the tears of pain and shame to spill out.

House's grip on the couch arm tightened so much that he was almost afraid he'd make a hole in the fabric before long. This was the least of his worries though as he realised the magnitude of the secret his employee had just told him. Well, that certainly answered a lot of his questions, so why did he feel worse?

A voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Wilson's told him it was because he was hurting for her. He did care about her, and was perhaps even starting to admit to it, and that's why the news of what that scumbag had done to her hit him so hard.

"Where can I find this guy?" House asked angrily.

"Why?" Alison cried, slightly scared of what he was going to say.

"So that I can kill him."


	6. Chapter 6

"_Where can I find this guy?" House asked angrily._

"_Why?" Alison cried, slightly scared of what he was going to say._

"_So that I can kill him."_

"House?" She asked, scared. Was he being serious? It was difficult to tell.

"I know I can be a bastard but no one has the right to treat someone else like that." He said firmly.

"It was my fault really." Alison protested. "I should've been a better girlfriend. I should've been on the pill or…"

"No!" House shouted, making Alison jump. She'd seen him angry before but somehow this was different. His voice was pained when he next spoke and she had no idea where the emotion was coming from but she could tell it was hard for him, being as closed off as he is. "None of this was your fault." He assured her.

Alison didn't know how to react to House acting almost caring. When he was blindly accusing her of being stupid it was easier to be defiant, having built up her confidence a lot over the years she'd been working for him. Now she didn't know what to do or where this would go. Was he actually showing that he cared about what happened to her?

Instinctively, Alison felt herself retreating. She couldn't put herself through any more pain with House. Their date a few years ago was disastrous and the consequences of that had been, well, not pretty. She'd never admit that to House though. Since then she hadn't let herself get close too House for fear of what would happen when he inevitably hurt her.

"I think you should go now." She told him quietly, tears still flowing from her eyes. House noticed her glance briefly at the box that was still on her coffee table. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she was thinking. The second he left she'd open that box again and House, though he would never admit it aloud, was scared that it would be the last time he'd see her, or at least very close to that. Alison had just revealed her darkest secret to him, probably the most unsympathetic person she knew, and she was in all likelihood terrified.

"I'm not leaving." He replied firmly. At this Alison couldn't look more shocked.

Once she regained her composure, she realised what a bad idea it would be for him to stay.

"House, I'll be fine on my own. I don't need a babysitter."

"Who said I'm staying for you? Wilson's taken all my porn I need something nice to look at. You're better than nothing." Alison was able to let out a small laugh at her boss' antics.

Realising that he wasn't going anywhere, Alison decided she might as well get comfortable with House staying for the evening. She offered him a drink, which he accepted, and excused herself to the kitchen to pour them both a glass of wine.

By the time she returned a few minutes later, House had cleared up the mess from earlier. All the used medical supplies were in the bin and her box, her safety net, was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly Alison felt very vulnerable, exposed. House was in complete control of the situation and that scared her. Not in the same way as being with Stuart had, but she knew full well that she couldn't do anything without him noticing. She was starting to need an outlet for her pain even more now that there was none available to her.

House noticed her breathing rate increase drastically when she realised he'd hidden the box from her. At least he was getting some reaction, he thought, although he could tell now that persuading her to stop wouldn't be easy. Still, it wasn't like him to shy away from a challenge. Seeing Alison stood at the door awkwardly holding the two glasses of wine, he motioned for her to take her seat next to him again. She obliged, handing over the glass as she did so.

"Are you going to stop?" He asked her, getting straight to the point.

"I don't know." She replied quietly, avoiding his gaze.

"Wrong answer."

"What do you want me to say, House? I'm not making any promises I can't keep."

"Well then you'd better make sure you keep it." He shot back.

"I don't know if I can. I don't know how else to deal with this." Her voice was soft with a pleading tone and House was torn between thinking about how pathetic she sounded and how much she needed his help. Within a second he seemed to have decided on the latter option.

"With my help." He told her softly. Alison looked up and met his eyes, half expecting them to give away that he was joking but she found no indication that this was the case.

"You can't tell Cuddy." Alison warned him.

"Why would I do that? She'd have to suspend your medical licence and I wouldn't be able to keep an eye on you at work."

"So what happens now?"

"That depends on if I feel I can trust you on your own."

"Do you?" She asked, honestly not sure at this point what his answer would be. Then again, she'd been shocked at pretty much everything that had come out of House's mouth since her confession. Was he playing some sort of game or did he actually care? She almost couldn't let herself believe the latter to be true.

"Tell me where I can find Stuart." He replied.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since I moved away from Chicago."

"Does he have a last name?"

"Why would I tell you what it was? I don't want you to find him and do something we'll both regret." She protested.

It was clear to House that she wanted nothing more to do with this man, in any sense, and he definitely couldn't blame her. Still, he silently vowed to get revenge on him, with or without Cameron's consent.

"I'm staying here tonight." He decided. She didn't put up a fight, instead going to find some spare bedding and giving House the opportunity to search her kitchen for any sharp objects. He knew his employee well enough to know that after the difficult conversation they'd just had she'd want to seek some form of comfort and there was no way he was letting her hurt herself under his watch. After hiding anything he could find under the couch where he would be sleeping he sat back down and waited for her to return. Seconds later she came out with a comforter and some spare pillows.

"You can take my bed." She insisted. "This couch isn't comfortable at the best of times, you shouldn't have to sleep on it with your leg."

Without a word, House retrieved the collection of knives and scissors from under the couch and went to take them with him to Alison's bedroom, ignoring her shocked look. He returned a couple of minutes later, obviously after snooping round her bedroom, to find Alison arranging the couch into a makeshift bed.

"Do you really not trust me?" Alison asked quietly when he heard him re-enter the room.

"Do I trust anyone?" House questioned in response.

"That sounds lonely." She commented.

"Do you trust anyone?" He wondered curiously.

Alison paused for a while, considering her answer. "I trust you." She replied, her voice soft and slightly uncertain, whether it was of her answer or whether she should be saying it House couldn't tell. "Goodnight House."

Taking her hint, House left the room and returned to her bedroom. Her bed was comfortable, much nicer than his, and he had a feeling he'd sleep well if it wasn't for his worry about the woman in the next room. He closed his eyes and willed his over-active mind to switch off. He hadn't had nearly enough alcohol to pass out and was now starting to regret that decision, realising that he'd probably not be able to sleep otherwise.

To his surprise, House found himself drifting off to sleep when the shrill ringing of his pager disturbed him. Annoyed, he threw it across the room, only to have Alison open the door seconds later, her own pager in her hand.

"We have a case. Cuddy wants us at the hospital now." She told him.

Begrudgingly, House got up and put his clothes back on. "You can drive." He told her as she shut the door to the bathroom to get changed. Ten minutes later she re-emerged, hair and make-up done, and headed into her bedroom to find something to wear. Through the closed door House called out to her.

"I was hoping for some sexy bed hair but I definitely wasn't disappointed by your pyjamas." He said.

"Shut up and let me finish getting ready."

When she was dressed she opened the door and grabbed her purse, heading out to the car with House following her. They reached the car and she turned to face him, giving him a proper look at her from the first time since they'd woken up. Her hair was tied back, probably because she'd had little time to do much else with it, and her make-up was heavier around her eyes than it usually was, presumably to cover up the fact that she'd been crying. He couldn't pretend that he hadn't heard her through the thin walls of her apartment.

"If Chase or Foreman ask you called me because you felt you were too drunk to drive in yourself." She told him and he nodded, opening the door and sliding in to the passenger seat. The last thing she needed was anyone else finding out about her past. She just counted herself lucky that Chase hadn't noticed any of her scars when they were sleeping together but she figured that wasn't really going to be the focus of his attention and he was probably too self-involved to be concerned anyway.

The pair drove in silence to the hospital, neither knowing what else to say to the other. House wasn't exactly one for small talk but he also didn't want to upset her again by bringing up what had happened. Meanwhile, Alison had spent the journey putting her guard back up, ashamed of herself for letting it slip so much over the course of the evening. She still wasn't completely sure why she'd told House everything in the first place. He now knew things that not even her late husband had known and there was no way he'd let them drop until he got all of the answers. He'd accused her of needing to fix people but she was starting to realise he maybe needed to just as much as she did, underneath his cold exterior.

They arrived at the conference room together, thankful that neither of their colleagues were there before them. Alison turned on the kettle to make some coffee before she got to work reading up on the patient's file in detail while House scanned through the main symptoms and wrote them up on the board. Both Chase and Foreman arrived soon after and they began discussing their latest case while sipping the scolding hot coffee to try and stay awake.

Having to work on a difficult case during the early morning hours seemed to help Alison keep her mind from wondering to her earlier conversation with House and the memories that he had dragged up with his questions. She felt herself relaxing as she got more into the medicine and had all but forgotten why she'd been so upset earlier by the time the sun rose high enough for it to be considered a normal time to be awake.

Alison was relieved that House didn't seem to mention anything about that evening and he sent them off to run a bunch of tests as if nothing had happened. It wasn't until she checked her cell phone when she was alone that she saw a message from him telling her to 'not be an idiot today', in House's exact words, and informing her she'd be driving him back to her apartment to pick up his car. Call her paranoid or whatever you want but she very much doubted he'd leave straight away.


End file.
